Luc Sante, author of Low Life and Kill All Your Darlings, among other works, writes a memoir that is barely a memoir at all. Sante was born in Belgium and moved to America as a young child, only to move back and forth between the two countries several times throughout the course of his childhood—and thus never wholly identifying with either place as his own. Sante recalls the details of his life as if sorting through old photographs or boxes of ephemera in the attic, reflecting on his Belgian heritage and adopted American attitudes, almost attempting to call up all the factors, circumstances, and elements that have contributed to the man he has become. As for its readworthiness, I pretty much love anything Sante writes, and this is no exception.
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